The War of a Hundred Years
by Mr. Toffee
Summary: The year is 1386, and the Freeman's are having a little dificulty adjusting to their new home in London, England, smack dab in the middle of the Hundred Years' War. Huey's point of view. T for language. Could turn into HueyXJazmine. Same ages as show.
1. Backround

**_Just thought that I would try something different. I love history and I just thought that I would try to spotlight a virtually untapped period of it. This first chapter is mostly backround information._**

**_Warning- Be prepared to learn something._**

* * *

I sat outside my family's new English home, watching the stars and thinking. The Freeman's had gone through a lot to get to here. Back in Africa, where I was born and lived for the majority of my life, my village had gotten into a little trouble.

You see, ever since the seventh century, Arabs had been coming to Africa and trading it's people as slaves. But the village of Fez, Morocco (present-day) never believed that this would happen to them.

Two years ago, on March 23rd, 1384, Saracen knights invaded Fez and began taking it's citizens prisoner. Luckily, however, the night before they came, I had been practicing martial arts on a nearby hill from an Oriental book that washed up on the beach one day, and I saw the army advancing. I ran back to the village to warn my family:

"Grandad, we have to get out of here right now!" I shouted.

"Boy, watchu talkin' about"

"An Arab company is advancing in the outskirts of the village, towards us!"

"Are you sure?" Grandad asked, slightly worried.

"Completely"

"Wow, I never thought that this would happen to us. Huey, go wake up your brother and tell him to help you pack your things. I'll do the same. We'll meet outside the hut in ten minutes. Only take what you can carry; we may be traveling for a while"

I did as I was told, and in about ten minutes, Riley and I were outside of our "former" home, with small knapsacks strapped to our back.

"All right boys," said Grandad, "Let's get a move on"

An hour and a half later, from the viewpoint of a mountain overlooking Fez, we saw our village go under seige from the Saracens.

A few weeks later, we all started to get hungry, and I was worried about what we would do for food from now on; we only had enough food we packed from home to last for a few more days. Fortunately, while passing through another village (Rabat), we learned that Abu al-Abbas had been reinstated as leader of the area (currently Morocco) and he just happened to be in Rabat. We told him our story, and he took sympathy upon us by giving us food for at least a couple more weeks, spears to hunt more food with, and a cart to carry it all in. He also promised us that a boat would be waiting for us when we reached the coast to take us wherever we needed to go.

Abu kept to his word, because when we did reach the coast, there was a large ship waiting to take us to our destination. The only problem was, we didn't know where wanted to go:

"Okay boys, I do not want to stay in this godforsaken land for another second. Where should we go?" asked Grandad.

"Well, let's think about it" I said, "Where can we go? We definitely can't go to the Middle East. That pretty much only leaves far Eastern Asia and Europe. I would personally like to live in Japan and learn to become a Ninja"

"Which one would take longer to get to?" asked Grandad.

"Well, Eastern Asia, but…"

"We're goin' ta Europe, boys!"

And it was decided just like that. The captain set sail for Europe.

"Grandad, I think you should reconsider" I said.

"Hush boy. Now where do y'all want to live in Europe?"

"Shoot, I don't know nothin' bout no Europe" said Riley.

"What about you Huey?"

"I told you I don't want to live anywhere in Europe"

"Boy! We are livin' here and you are goin' ta enjoy it! Now, choose were we should live, or I will and we could end up in some hell-hole!"

I sighed, "From what I have learned about the Crusades from my books, it seems the nation of England would be our best bet for escaping Middle-Easterners. But I have no idea what the country is like today, 114 years after the last real English involvement in the Crusades (Ninth Crusade)"

"England it is!" yelled Grandad.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"Well, where else are we supposed to go?" Grandad asked.

"Japan!"

"Hush boy"

So we sailed on to England and eventually landed in the English port town of Hastings. The town looked as if it had seen better days. We learned from a local inn keeper that in the 13th century almost all of Hastings had been washed away by the sea, and that in the years 1339 and 1377 French raids had left sections of the town burned to the ground. Grandad didn't think that we should be living in a town that was so susceptible to destruction, so we decided to keep moving.

Oh, and did I forget to mention how everybody looked at us in Hastings. It was like they had never seen an African before, oh wait, the probably haven't. Well this is going to be fun.

We loaded the cart filled with all of our supplies of the ship, waved goodbye to the captain, and continued on our way out of Hastings. Grandad didn't really know where we were going, so on the way out we asked a peasant where the best town to live in around here was. He told us of a town to the Northwest known as London, where King Richard II of England resides. We figured that since the king lives there, it must be a pretty decent place.

After a few days, we began to run out of food again. However, just as we were on our last loaf of bread, we saw a caravan being robbed off in the distance. I was feeling in a charitable mood that day, so I took out the katana that had washed up on the shore along with the martial arts book long ago back in Africa, and ran towards the robbers. When I reached them I swung my sword at what appeared to be the leader. He blocked it with his and aimed a kick at my stomach to throw me off balance. Luckily, I broke away just in time and dodged it. While I was in the process of pivoting to dodge the kick, I spun around and hit him right in the back with my katana. This did cut him pretty badly, but not enough for him to give up. He backed up, and called the other two robbers over to fight me. As they were running towards me with their swords pointed forward, I held my katana with two hands, used it to get under their swords as their points came within inches of me, and knocked them out of their hand. This did the trick, for within seconds, the three burglars were running off into the horizon.

Actually, the drivers of the caravan had run off too, while we were fighting. It turns out that it was one of John of Gaunt's personal caravans that was on it's way to the ship that was carrying John to Castile. It seems that he is trying to make good his claim to the throne by right of his second marriage to Costanza of Castile in 1371, but that's another story.

"Wow, look at all this gold shit" Riley said, in awe of all the treasure before.

"What should we do with it, Grandad?" I asked.

"Well, seeing as the owners of this here treasure trove seem to have run off and aren't coming back, I think we owe it to them to at least put it to good use" explained Grandad.

"Nice logic" I said.

So we pretty much took everything, even the caravan with the horses, so that when we finally reached the gates of London, we looked like regular Noblemen.

"And who might you be, sir?" a guard asked Grandad, who driving the caravan.

"Uh, well, you see…"

"We are rich ambassadors from the far off land of Africa here to settle in your fine city" I interjected, "We will survey it and send reports back to our Motherland of how the great Nation of England really does it all"

"Well, thank you sirs. Please continue on"

"Good work, boy" said Grandad approvingly as we drove into the streets of London. This section of London seemed to be a poor district, for there were many beggars and such pleading for money from entrants to the city. With our new found wealth, Grandad decided he wanted to live somewhere nicer, so we decided to keep on moving. We continued to delve deeper into the city until Grandad settled on a street called Leadenhall Street; it seemed like a good neighborhood. This trip had taken two years to complete.

And that leaves me here, sitting on the stoop outside our new house in Leadenhall Street, London.

* * *

_**I tried to stay as historically accurate as possible. By the way, there may be a few spelling and/or grammatical errors.**_


	2. Jazmine DuBois

**_I suggest doing some research on this time period and London. It will help you understand what is going on a little better. To start off: Type in "History of London" on wikipedia and you will find a lot of cool stuff, including a map of London in the year 1300! I love history! _**

* * *

"Hello! What's your name?"

I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't even notice this newcomer walk right up to me, in the form of a little girl. It was too dark, though, to be able to tell anything else about her.

"Uh, Huey" I said, standing up, slightly surprised, "And you?"

"My name's Jazmine DuBois! Say, what are ya doin' out here so late, all by yourself?" she asked, scanning the deserted, English streets for any trace of a companion I may have been with.

"I could ask you the same question" I replyed, "Anyway, this is my home right here. I just came out for some fresh air"

"Really?! You live here?!" she exclaimed, pointing to my new, large home.

"Yes, why?"

"I live right across the street, in that house right there!" she said excitedly, pointing to the, also large, home behind her. "Wow, this is going to be great. Hardly any kids my ag- excuse me, how old are you?"

"10"

"Hardly any kids my age live on Leadenhall street. This is going to be great! We can hang out everyday! Oh, it's going to be so much fun!"

"Whoa, hold your horses. We just met"

"I know, but I'm just sooo excited! We can walk to the market, or pretend to be royalty, or we can just sit by the river Thames and watch the stars"

"_Geez, what's with this girl!" _I thought, _"We've only known each other for about two minutes and she already thinks we're best friends! It must be a white girl thing"_

"I'll just take your silence as a yes!" concluded Jazmine, "Yay, yay, YAY!!"

"Uhhh, yeah… I think I'll just go inside now"

As I opened the front door of my family's new home, flooding the street with the candlelight from within, I could hear the girl following me in.

"Look, kid, I don't think…"

I couldn't complete my sentence, because as I turned around, I saw Jazmine for what she truly was for the first time.

"You're African!?" I exclaimed, "But, how's that even possible? How can there possibly any more people like me so far away from the motherland? But wait a second. You don't look quite right, like there's a little Caucasian in you too"

"That's because, there is" she said admittedly, "I'm half African and half English"

"How!?" I questioned, even more baffled.

"It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"I'm still listening, aren't I?"

"Okay" she said, "But that means we have to play tea party tomorrow"

"Or I could just leave" I said, starting to walk inside.

"Okay, okay! It all started during the Third Crusade. My ancestors used to live in the city of Acre as slaves until 1191 when King Richard the Lionheart captured it in the name of the Crusaders. My ancestors' masters fled to Damascus, leaving my ancestors alone, facing the Crusader knights. But King Richard took pity on my family. He told them that they were welcome to come back to England along with all the other slaves that were left in Acre. And so they did, and generations later, my family was running out of other Africans to marry and have children with, so my daddy had no choice but to marry and English lady. But he says that it was the best decision of his life."

"Wow, how do you know all of this?"

"My daddy tells me the story whenever I feel lonely and out of place and tells me to be proud of my differences and where I came from"

Then it hit Jazmine.

"You're African too!"

"Yeah, I am"

"This is great! Now I know we're meant to be best friends!"

"I really don't think that that's such a great idea. We still come from very different places. I mean, you're family's lived here for 195 years and mine has only just got here"

"Oh, I see" she said sadly. She then began to walk back in the direction of her house, trying her best not to break down. But, it was no use. In seconds, Jazmine was on her knees crying her little eyes out.

"_Oh, geez" _I thought, _"Does my friendship really mean this much to her? I guess I could throw her a bone"_

"I sniff just wanted a sniff friend!" she cried to herself.

"Jazmine, I suppose that we can, you know, do something, sometime, I guess"

Before I could react, Jazmine had pulled me into one of the tightest hugs I had ever had before.

"Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!"

"Jazmine, release!"

"Oh, sorry" she said, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it" I said, catching my breath.

"Well" she said, "You better go inside and get some sleep! We're going to have a big tomorrow!"

"Whatever" I said.

When I reached my front door, I turned around.

"Bye Huey!" she called while waving to me on the top step leading to her front door.

"Bye, Jazmine DuBois" I said to myself after she had closed her door.

I was just about to close my door, when just at that moment, something caught my eye. It was the form of a dark figure on top of Jazmine's house. But in the next second, it was gone. I directed my eyes to the rooftops down the street and saw it dashing off and then turn east, in the direction of Cornhill street.

"_Maybe living in England could be a bit interesting" _I told myself.

"_I'm not about to let this opportunity slip away" _I thought while climbing the side of my house to reach the rooftops above.

* * *

**_I know I haven't gotten to the Hundred Years War yet, but in the meantime, do some research on it. And I know you probably have some questions, but don't worry. They will be answered._**


	3. Mystery Man

**_This is the third chapter of my historical fiction "The War of a Hundred Years". I had to study a bunch maps to make this one. Hope you enjoy it!_**

**_Recap (incase you forgot)- Huey had just met Jazmine and after she went inside he saw a man running across her roof, heading west._**

* * *

I had been following this mysterious figure across the roofs of London for about a half hour and I was getting exhausted.

"_This guy certainly knows what he's doing" _I thought.

He was incredibly quick and didn't even appear to be getting tired yet. Not to say I wasn't doing well, though. It was times like these that I really appreciated all the training I did back in Africa, running and jumping through the branches of the trees. But still, this was a completely new and unfamiliar environment, what with all the buildings and such.

"_Where is he going"_ I thought, _"We will probably be arriving upon Newgate soon at this rate (a gate in the west of the London Wall that surrounds London between Ludgate and Aldersgate). Is he trying to leave the city?"_

Apparently not, for just as the gate was coming into view, the mysterious figure stopped dead in his tracks, as did I.

"Hey! What's the rush?" I shouted at him, catching my breath.

Instead of words, the shrouded man answered me with a mysterious hand gesture. In the next instance, a streetlight reflected off something shiny between us.

"_Wait!" _I realized just in time throw myself onto the rooftop surface while the dagger flew over me and cut a gash into my back.

"Ahh!" I shouted in pain. But there was no time to recuperate; the mystery man was already rushing towards me.

As he came closer, I could see him pull back his cloak to reveal two shortswords strapped to the sides of his black leather tunic. In the next second, when he had finally reached me, he quickly crossed his arms over his torso, grabbing a sword in each hand and unsheathing it, and uncrossed his arms by swinging the swords out in front of him which would almost assuredly cut off my head. I wasn't about to let that happen though.

While his wrists were together I quickly hit them both with a downward swing from my fist, which successfully threw of his attack leaving me a window to make my move.

I kicked at his crotch and when he went down to guard his precious cargo, I took the opportunity to hit him hard with both of my open palms to hopefully knock him off balance.

Alas, my tactic failed. When he looked like he was going to fall flat on his back he instead placed his hands on the ground and did a quick back flip, kicking me in the face in the process. That was really painful. I could feel the blood starting to pour out of my nose. When I opened my eyes I could see the man in black doing a sweeper kick which successfully knocked me off my feet. I didn't do any fancy back flips to avoid this; I fell flat on my back.

I was too dazed by all that had just occurred to even attempt to get up. It didn't matter anyway, however. The man was leaning over me, shortswords in hand, ready to cut of my head once again. But as he continued to lean closer to me, he apparently noticed something about me that made him say "Oh dear", sheath his swords, and offer his hand to help me up. I cautiously accepted the offer, more than a little suspicious I might add.

"Why you're just a boy; a foreign boy by the looks of it" said the man who had obviously noticed my dissimilar skin color.

"Well, if I'm just a _foreign boy_, why were you just trying to dispatch me?" I asked, startled by his sudden change of character.

"You will have to understand, young sir, that it is not easy to distinguish every little detail of a gentlemen standing a couple hundred paces off on a distant rooftop while the night's dark concealment still lingers in the sky"

"Yes," I admitted, "But I am quite a bit shorter than the average man!"

"Good point, but spies do come in different shapes and sizes"

"Well with that logic, how do you know now I'm not a spy?"

"Once again, good point," he said and I could see him smiling beneath his cloak hood, "I guess I'm just going to have to trust you"

I winced, for the pain of that kick and the gash on my back had just resurfaced in full force.

"Oh my, I seem to have done a number on you, haven't I?"

"No, I'm alright, really". I tried to walk around the rooftop to prove my point, but it just ended up costing me my balance again.

"Really?". This man was clearly aware of the level of pain I was in, no matter how hard I tried to hide it.

"Here, let me give you a hand". He suddenly picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I yelled. I was not in the mood to be carried, "Put me down right now!"

"As you wish" He promptly set me down on the rooftop, although I seemed to have found myself collapsing again. I was in fairly bad shape. To postpone the "Are you sure you're alrights" that were sure to follow, I decided now was a good time to ask a question that had been itching at me since I first saw this mysterious figure:

"Who are you?"

"That is neither yours nor anyone else's concern"

"Well, you were just trying to kill me, so I believe I have a right to know the reason why" I explained.

"And you think me telling you my name will allow you that knowledge?"

"I don't mean just you're name, obviously"

"Are you sure you're alright" he asked.

"Don't change the subject. Who are you and what do you do?"

"Well, I guess you do deserve some reward"

"For what" I asked, a bit surprised, "Not that I'm complaining"

"You performed well during our little in between we just had. If you hadn't of held your own during that fight, you'd probably be dead right now"

"Not to completely dismiss that theory," I began, "But the real reason I'm not dead is because you finally realized I was just a kid"

"Yes, but if you hadn't defended yourself, I would have killed you before I had the chance to recognize your child-like qualities" he explained.

"Good point" I repeated him, "So go on, who are you and what do you do?"

"Not so fast; even if you do deserve some information, so do I"

"What?! Why"

"Like you said" stated the man, "How do I know now you're not a spy?"

"What do you want to know?" I said reluctantly, complying.

"Where did you come from? Because it's quite obvious you're not from around these parts"

"_Geez, how am I the one being questioned now?"_

"I come from the continent of Africa"

"They speak English in Africa?"

"No, but I do"

"How?"

"I learned it from a man in Hastings, the town we arrived in when we first came to England, who gave me a book they use to teach English children to read"

"We?"

"I came here with my brother and grandfather"

"Do they know English?"

"No, they found it unnecessary to learn English"

"In England?"

"They're lazy"

"Oh"

"I do, however, still have the book the Hastings man gave me if they ever find it necessary, which they most likely will regardless of how lazy they are"

"But you seem to have a far greater grasp on this language than most people who have been speaking it their whole life. How is it possible that you speak so well?"

"I just thought that if I'm going to learn the language, I might as well learn it right"

"Hard to argue with you there"

"Okay enough of your questions". I was beginning to get angry, "It's my turn now"

"All in good time" he responded, "I must be off". The man began to walk away towards the side of the rooftop.

"Oh, come on! At least tell me your name!"

The man turned around, "I thought my name would fail to give you the information you required"

Seeing my annoyed expression the man said, "Tell you what, if you really want to know more about me, why don't you come along?"

"Where?"

"You'll see when we get there" he said with a grin.

"Fine". I got up and I was finding it easier to walk, but I was still in no shape to run and leap from rooftops. Reading my mind, once again, the strange man who's name I still didn't know suggested we climb down to the street and walk from there to wherever we were going.

And so we made our way down to Watling street (the street below us) past all of the various food markets and, much to my confusion, actually did walk out of Newgate, and in turn, the City of London.

We continued down Watling, which ran out of the city and into the country surrounding it. We walked down that same road for almost an hour; I was getting very restless despite the late hours of the night.

"Where the hell are we going?" I asked abruptly.

"You want to ruin the surprise?" he asked.

"Yes"

I hate surprises.

"Hey, I have another question for you" he said.

"Great" I said sarcastically. It really wasn't fair that a guy I just met was asking me all these questions and he wouldn't even answer _one_ of mine.

"If you just arrived in London a short time ago, how is it that you have had enough time and money to afford those nice clothes?"

It was true; I was wearing rather nice clothes for a recent immigrant to England.

"Oh that" I began reluctantly, "Well, I'm not especially proud of it, but…"

And so I told him the story of how my family and I had found the cart filled with treasure on our way to London.

"There was a paper amidst all the gold and everything that stated the cart was on it's way to deliver all of it to a private ship in Dover which belonged to a one John of Gaunt. He sounded like a rather rich and important individual, so I just assumed we needed it more than he did…"

The man had stopped in his tracks a while back.

"Did you say 'John of Gaunt'?" he asked, his voice suddenly falling flat.

"Yeah. Is there a problem?" I asked suspiciously.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see" his voice slowly regaining it's usual jovial and mysterious quality.

At the time I didn't really think much about any of this 'John of Gaunt' nonsense. This was soon to change.

We walked past every turn and every bridge we came across and kept on going straight. After an hour or so I was beginning to feel a little better regarding my injuries, and if I really wanted to I was actually in a shape to run, but we had been walking for so long and I was so exhausted that I had no intention of going any faster than I already was, thus I couldn't bring myself to tell the man of how I had healed.

After what seemed like ages we finally turned right when we reached a four way intersection. So we continued walking that way for almost as long as we had just been walking. We walked passed another intersection (this time a three way one) called Charing Cross, passed a building called Scotland Yard, and passed another building called Whitehall.

Finally, we reached our destination.

"The Palace of Westminster?" I questioned, "What could you possibly need to do here?"

The Palace of Westminster was where the King of England resided and it seemed odd to me that this guy dragged me god knows how far just to see a palace we probably wouldn't even be able to get in to.

"I have a little business with Richard"

He was of course referring to King Richard II.

"Well how long will you be?" I asked, "I have to be getting home soon"

"Oh, I won't be long at all"

He bent down and grabbed a dagger that he had apparently strapped to his thigh, walked over to the unguarded side of the palace until he was about 100 feet from it, and threw the blade with precise aim right through the second floor window.

Horns began to sound all around us and the man began sprinting back in my direction followed by several armed guards.

"Now is the time to run" he said as he picked me up, continuing his escape, arrows zipping by on both sides of us.

* * *

**_Well I'm off. I hope you all have a nice day. Cheers!_**


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